


Alicante Academy: Battle Royale

by sabby1



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Gen, Humor, Prompt Fill, Spin-Off, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 23:46:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20956925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabby1/pseuds/sabby1
Summary: The best offices were spacious rooms with large windows and state of the art furniture. The worst offices were in the basement and barely larger than broom closets with tiny hopper windows and furniture that had witnessed WW2.This discrepancy inevitably led to knockdown drag-out fights every summer.While Alicante Academy’s prodigious youth were off squandering their parents’ money on illicit drugs, underage drinking, and wild parties across the globe, the prestigious school’s renowned staff was busy throat-cutting and back-stabbing each other over the best office space for the following year.





	Alicante Academy: Battle Royale

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Boys Don't Cry](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20553851) by [sabby1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabby1/pseuds/sabby1). 
  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [sh_ficletinstruments](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/sh_ficletinstruments) collection. 

> **Prompt:**
> 
> Battling for the best lecture hall / office space leads to all the feels

Alicante Academy was an amalgamation of every boarding school featured in the wet fever dreams of affluent parents the world over. The buildings were red brick, the lawns were immaculate Kentucky green, and the uniforms were fashionably reminiscent of older schools in much older countries. The dark gray commemorative plate near the entrance proclaimed the institution’s establishment in 1872.

Its hallowed halls included a hyper-modern Science Building with numerous state of the art laboratories and computer rooms; the Lightwood Building for morning assembly, dramatic performances, and meal times; eight student dormitories; three gymnasiums, including a workout room, Olympic pool, and three halls for indoor activities; as well as extensive grounds with outdoor courts, track and field, shooting ranges, a chapel, and two sets of horse stables.

It also included the Administration Building where the staff’s private offices were housed. The best offices were spacious rooms with large windows and luxurious furniture. The worst offices were in the basement and barely larger than broom closets with tiny hopper windows and furniture that had witnessed WW2.

This discrepancy inevitably led to knockdown drag-out fights every summer.

While Alicante Academy’s prodigious youth were off squandering their parents’ money on illicit drugs, underage drinking, and wild parties across the globe, the prestigious school’s renowned staff was busy throat-cutting and back-stabbing each other over the best office space for the following year.

Needless to say, summer was Headmistress Imogen Herondale’s least favorite season. She did not actually have a favorite. She hated them all, but she hated summer most.

She had tried a lottery system.

Imogene had only been able to prove the involvement of Lorenzo Rey and Coach Rufus in the elaborate cheating scam that had ensued. She knew there had been others.

She had tried first come, first served.

Cleophas Graymark had literally camped on the front lawn of Imogen’s private residence to be first to the list.

She had tried the seniority system.

It had nearly cost her half her staff when the junior ranked teachers had threatened to quit as a group.

She had tried reason. Imogen didn’t remember now what had made her think that would work.

In the end, she had resigned herself to the annual Battle Royale.

She placed the paper on the conference table and walked out of the room.

One of these days, one of the “exasperating eight” would do something astoundingly idiotic. They always did, eventually. Then their parents would be willing to pay any sum to ensure their demon spawn could stay at Alicante and out of their hair until they could be shipped off to college, preferably abroad.

She only had to hold on until then. 

Her money was on the duo of blond boys that seemed to be perpetually intoxicated in one fashion or another.

Morgenstern Hall had a nice ring to it. So did the Verlac Building.

Until then, Imogen would just have to replace whoever didn’t make it out of the room alive.


End file.
